


Waking Up Alone

by KestrelShrike



Series: New Galaxy, Same Old Thirst [7]
Category: Mass Effect (Comics), Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Apex - Freeform, Death, F/M, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Wren Ryder, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 07:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11824095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike
Summary: When Wren Ryder wakes up to find herself alone in Tiran Kandros' apartment, she immediately knows something is wrong. But what can it be?





	Waking Up Alone

Morning and no sunlight streamed in through blinds, something that was impossible to get used to. Not that there were blinds anyway, but the lack of real light felt so grating, constantly making her sleep schedule feel off. When all this was over, Wren Ryder was determined to get a room on one of the new habitats, somewhere with the biggest windows they could make. For now, her more immediate concerns were the lack of Tiran Kandros by her side in bed, where he was supposed to be. 

“SAM, what time is it?” She could just check the terminal, but that would involve leaving the pocket of warmth she had formed around herself, one that seemed more critical than ever to keep given the distinct lack of tall turian boyfriend to add his own body heat. 

“It’s currently 5:37 in the morning, Pathfinder. Your alarm isn’t due for another hour and-” 

“I get it SAM, thanks.” So now she was awake for no particularly good reason, and she was resigned to not falling asleep again until she found Kandros. Groaning, she didn’t so much get out of bed as fell out of it, feet hitting a cold floor that didn’t even have the benefit of a carpet. That would be her next gift to Kandros; something so she didn’t freeze and immediately want to go back to the safety of blankets. 

A quick look around the spartan apartment revealed he wasn’t there at all. This necessitated putting on her actual clothes, carefully folded within his wardrobe, just an extra outfit. It was handy, or so she tried to defend to herself. It wasn't as if she wasn’t getting domestic. Not at all. Kandros was, however, rubbing off on her, if the carefully folded pants and shirt were any indication. Before him, she would have just left them in a pile on the floor, but it seemed almost wrong to spoil the pristine cleanliness of his room, even if her clothes were clean. 

Dressed and still bleary-eyed, Ryder checked the bathroom one last time. No luck, leaving her to shake her head, clearing the clouds that still lingered, walking out the door into the Nexus’ dim corridors. There was hardly anyone about this hour, and those that were blinked owlishly at her, some offering a wave but none with a word for her. Ryder preferred it that way, without the falsity of deference some now saw fit to grant her with.

First came coffee. There was a small stand set up, a new wave of commerce coming into the Nexus, not yet enough to warrant a full cafe. Without coffee plants being grown yet, the prices were increasing by the day, reaching outlandish heights, but the Pathfinder could afford a mugful for herself, and an even larger cup of the turian equivalent. Kandros would thank her for it later. And hopefully pay her back. 

Two steaming mugs now in hand, Ryder walked towards Nexus Security, passing a few more faces, offering a few more nods, mostly concentrating on sipping and not spilling, eyes constantly scanning for the familiar white face and blue markings. Not him, not him- oh! No. Not him, but a young turian who served closely under Kandros, freshly an adult. Glaucio, if her memory served her correctly. 

“Your boss around?” Ryder kept her tone light and casual, but worry was starting to creep up. He was an early riser, yes, but this was unusual. 

Glaucio gave her a solemn nod, eyes flickering to the two cups. “I hope there’s enough in there. He’s by the console in the back.” It left her doubting, taking a burning gulp of her own drink before thanking Glaucio with a nod. 

Kandros did not turn to look at her as she approached, even though Ryder’s shoes were audible on the floor. She put her hand on his waist and he still didn’t interact, except to move slightly away, still intent on his task, fingers whizzing over a series of commands and coded messages, typing faster than she thought possible. It was only when she placed the coffee on a surface next to him that he finally turned to look at her, a membrane sliding over his eyes and making them look filmy and exhausted. 

“I woke up and you were gone,” she said, not reaching out to touch him again. Kandros was too stiff, holding some part of himself away from her. “You okay, Tiran?” She rarely used his first name, and when she did, it brought a sense of immediacy and intimacy to their conversation that was impossible to ignore, though Kandros looked sorely tempted. 

He took a long sip of his turian coffee, holding the warmth in his mandibles before releasing it with a sigh. “A situation with APEX. It’s under control now.” His tones were clipped, staccato. 

“Are you sure?” He was turning away from her even now, trying to go back to the terminal and back to whatever had so wholly absorbed him. 

Another sip of his drink and he turned back to look at her. “No,” he finally said, tone bleak. “It was a routine mission. It should have been. Get in, get the data, get out. Blow up the kett stronghold and leave those bastards wondering what hit them.” It was best for Ryder to let him talk it out, Kandros’ eyes far away. 

“We lost two of them. Susan Hill, human, thirty-three years old. Nakmor Greash, krogan, barely fifty.” He ran a hand over his face, tugging at his own fringe as if the pain could give him answers. “Radars didn’t pick up the kett ship waiting. I should have been more vigilant. I should have stayed up to watch, stayed up on comms. It was routine, damn it!” His tone raised, fist punching the terminal’s side so that the screen flickered for a minute. 

“Tiran, I…” There weren’t words for what he was feeling, and Ryder had never been good with saying things in the first place. Instead, she put her arms around him, pulling him close. After only a moment’s resistance, Kandros relented, arms draping around her shoulders, far taller body sagging against hers. She could hold him up, at least for a little while. 

“This is my responsibility.” His voice was muffled by her hair, teeth catching in it. 

“Maybe. But it wasn’t your fault.” Shit happened. It happened to her all the time. 

Kandros’ arms tightened around her a moment before he released her and stepped back, face a careful mask of professionalism again. “I wish I could believe that, Wren.”   
“I’m taking you back home.” He was surprisingly unresistant to her tugs, mind still somewhere far away. Nodding to Glaucio as she moved out, she was gratified when the young turian gave her a grateful look. “I’ll help you write the letters to the family.” It was something she had become all too experienced in. 

“Thank you, Wren.” It wasn’t much she offered, but sometimes all you needed was a familiar, loving shoulder to lean on.


End file.
